


reassurance

by magnificentbirb



Series: we keep going on [3]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space Opera, Brief Aftermath of Violence, Gen, Heavily Implied WooSan, Jongho Is Secretly Soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-23 22:16:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21088682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnificentbirb/pseuds/magnificentbirb
Summary: Choi Jongho, former professional fighter and certified strong man of theTreasurecrew, takes it upon himself to be the protector of his crew.And sometimes, Jongho dreams that he fails.





	reassurance

Choi Jongho, former professional fighter and certified strong man of the _Treasure_ crew, takes it upon himself to be the protector of his crew.

And sometimes, Jongho dreams that he fails.

Sometimes he dreams of the bodies of his crewmates, broken and growing cold, strewn through the blood-streaked halls of the _Treasure_. He sees Hongjoong slumped against the wall of his office, a neat hole in his forehead, a lucky shot, an instant kill. He sees Seonghwa splayed in the bridge beside Yunho, face down in pools of blood, cut down in an attempt to get their ship away from danger. He sees San fallen in the galley, head cocked at an unnatural angle, eyes glazed and sightless, a gun still held in limp fingers. He sees Wooyoung nearby, never too far from his partner, throat gaping red, one arm outstretched desperately for San. He sees Mingi in their shared room, sprawled on Jongho’s bed, bled out from a gut wound. He sees Yeosang last, trapped in the med bay, head slumped forward and eyes gone black, the back of his head a mess of blood and wires.

Jongho sees all of this, and wakes with bile in his throat and eyes burning.

His room is dark, barely lit by the dull glow of Mingi’s charging handheld. Jongho turns his head to see Mingi asleep in his bunk across the room, his face turned towards Jongho, mouth slack and snoring lightly. The sight brings immediate ease to the pressure in Jongho’s chest, but it’s not enough.

Jongho knows what he needs to do.

Carefully, quietly, Jongho slips out of bed, wincing slightly when his feet hit the floor, cold even through the decorative rug Yunho insisted on putting in every bedroom. He slings on an old sweatshirt (one of Mingi’s, judging by the size), shoves his feet into his slippers, and leaves the room as quietly as he can.

The halls of the _Treasure_ are quiet, save for the reassuring hum of the engines and the periodic beep of some sensor or another from the bridge.

San and Wooyoung share the room beside Jongho and Mingi, so that’s where Jongho goes first. Silently, he presses a palm to the door lock, and it slides open without a sound. Jongho catches it before it opens all the way, allowing only a single bar of dim light to enter the room, and peeks in.

Wooyoung’s bed is empty, but that’s not unusual; Jongho can see the two of them lying together in a tangle of limbs and blankets in San’s bed, San’s head pillowed on Wooyoung’s shoulder, his arm looped over Wooyoung’s waist. Wooyoung’s face is partially hidden in San’s hair, and even as Jongho watches, Wooyoung shifts slightly and tightens his arms around San, snuggling deeper into the blankets.

The pressure in Jongho’s chest eases even more, and he quietly closes the door to that bedroom, already starting to feel better.

He heads to the galley next, where he can hear the low rumble of conversation, see the gentle glow of light emanating from the open doorway. He hesitates for a moment outside the door, then tentatively leans around the edge of the doorway, peering inside.

Seonghwa and Yunho are sitting at the table, Seonghwa cradling a steaming cup of tea between his hands, Yunho with his hand in a bag of snacks.

“Jongho-ya?” Seonghwa is the first to notice him, perking up slightly from his comfortable slump against the table. “Is everything all right?”

“Yep.” Jongho forces a smile, blinking away the fresh memory of these two bleeding out on the floor of the bridge. They’re fine, they’re alive, they’re looking at him with so much kind concern that Jongho kind of wants to duck out of the doorway and back into the shadows, crawl under his blankets again and risk whatever nightmares might come next. “Just thirsty,” he says.

“Here, I'll get you a glass of water,” Yunho says, already on his feet, heading for the cabinets beside the stasis box.

Jongho shuffles into the room, but just barely, leaning against the wall beside the doorway. He crosses his arms over his chest; the sleeves of the sweatshirt hang over his hands, and he curls his fingers into the cuffs.

Seonghwa is watching him carefully, one finger tapping against the side of his mug.

“You sure everything’s okay?” Seonghwa says. His voice is soft, genuine. Jongho kind of wants to cry.

“Yes, h-hyung,” he says, and Seonghwa just smiles at him, as though it’s nothing for him to be called “hyung” by an ex-professional fighter he met mere months ago.

“Okay,” Seonghwa says. “If you’re sure.”

“Here you go, kiddo.” Yunho hands Jongho a glass of cool water, and Jongho mutters his thanks as he takes it, shaking his sleeves away from his hands so he doesn’t drop the glass.

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna head back to bed, I guess,” Jongho says, staring at the water in his glass.

“Sleep tight, Mr. Rock,” Yunho says, reaching out to quickly ruffle Jongho’s hair, and Jongho feels his cheeks flush with a strange mix of pleasure and embarrassment. He swats good-naturedly at Yunho’s hand, making Yunho chuckle. “Let us know if you need anything, okay?”

“I will,” Jongho says. “Thanks.”

He makes a quick exit from the galley, water still clutched in one hand, and lets out a breath as soon as he heads down the dark hallway. His heart is gradually calming down, but he keeps going, heading for his next stop.

The med-bay is quiet and dark but for a single desktop lamp illuminating the far corner of the room. Jongho knocks quietly, and is unsurprised to find Yeosang still awake, reading beneath the lamp.

“Jongho,” he says simply, his eyes gleaming in the darkness. “Is something wrong? Are you hurt?”

“No, I just…” Jongho clicks his fingernails against his water glass. “Can’t sleep. Decided to wander around, see what people are up to.”

“Mm.” Yeosang puts his book down, marking his place with a finger. “Would you like to… hang out here? For a while?”

Jongho can’t help but smile; he can tell this isn’t something Yeosang does often. 

“Nah, I’m good,” he says. “Just passing through. Have a good night, Yeosang.”

Yeosang smiles at him, warm and soft. “You as well.”

_One more_, Jongho thinks as he slips out of the med-bay, taking another sip of water. _Just have to find one more._

He stops off at his room to place the half-full glass of water on his bedside table. Mingi has flopped onto his stomach in the time since Jongho left, and his snoring has gotten louder. Jongho grins at him, tugs the blankets back over Mingi’s waist, and heads to his final destination: the bridge.

Sure enough, that’s where he finds his captain, dozing in the pilot’s chair. Jongho tip-toes closer, and as soon as he sees Hongjoong’s face, relaxed in sleep and pillowed on his own fist, the tension in his chest evaporates completely, and he lets out a deep sigh.

Clearly too deep, because Hongjoong jerks awake, blinking sleepily up at Jongho.

“Hey,” Hongjoong says groggily, sitting up and swiping one hand over his eyes in an attempt to wake up. “What’re you doing up?”

“Sorry,” Jongho says, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his sweatshirt. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Hongjoong just nods, but his eyes are already a bit sharper now, and Jongho knows it’s because he’s afraid something is wrong. Nothing awakens Kim Hongjoong faster than concern for a member of his crew.

Hongjoong pats the arm of the copilot’s seat in obvious invitation, and Jongho hesitates for only a moment before he sits down, leaning back into the comfortable leather seat. This is where Seonghwa sits, usually. Jongho tries not to feel too out of place.

“Hyung,” Jongho says quietly, the word still awkward on his tongue; he’s never had a single person to call “hyung” before, let alone seven, and as happy as it makes him, he’s still not quite used to it.

“Hm?” Hongjoong’s voice is easy, relaxed, as though Jongho calling him “hyung” is a perfectly normal and welcome occurrence, and Jongho maybe kind of fiercely loves him for that. 

“Do you ever get scared of this?” Jongho asks.

Hongjoong glances at him, eyes shining in the darkness. “Scared of what?”

“Just… all of it.” Jongho traces a finger over the arm of the copilot’s seat. “Having this ship, and this much freedom, and this crew…” Jongho blinks back the prickling sensation in his eyes, trying not to dwell on blurry dream images of broken bodies and blood. “There’s so much to lose now. Doesn’t it… scare you?”

Hongjoong is silent for a few seconds, his gaze on the stars outside. He looks tired, in a deeper sense than just physical exhaustion. Jongho wonders what the story is there.

“Constantly,” Hongjoong says, finally, his voice so quiet that Jongho almost doesn’t hear him over the low hum of the engines. “I’m terrified every moment that I might lose one of you. That the GU might come for Yunho someday, arguing that his contract isn’t up. Or that the feds will finally catch up with Wooyoung and San, and there will be nothing we can do to prevent them from getting arrested. Or that you’ll get stolen from us and forced into fighting again, or Yeosang will be found and deactivated.” Hongjoong pauses and lets out a heavy sigh. “I think about all of that and more every single day. It never really leaves. It could drown me, if I let it.” Hongjoong turns a smile on Jongho. “So I don’t. Instead, I find joy in the fact that we’re all here, and we’re free, and we have each other. That’s good enough for now.”

Jongho nods, unable to force words past the lump in his throat. Hongjoong reaches over and pats his arm, squeezing slightly.

“You know, this might sound bad,” Hongjoong continues, “given that you’re clearly having a rough night, but I’m actually really glad to hear that you’re worried about this stuff.”

“Why is that?”

Hongjoong shrugs, smiling coyly. “At the heart of it all, it means that you made the right choice in joining us, and we made the right choice in bringing you along. You wouldn’t be sitting here right now if you didn’t care.”

Jongho considers this, his gaze fixed on the blinking controls in front of him.

“I suppose that’s true,” he says.

“Of course it’s true,” Hongjoong says. “I’m always right.”

Jongho lets out a little laugh at that, which makes Hongjoong grin.

“Why don’t you hang here with me for tonight?” Hongjoong asks. “These chairs are surprisingly good for napping. We can worry quietly together.”

“Aye, captain,” Jongho says with a lopsided smile. “Thank you.”

Hongjoong pats Jongho’s arm again, and they both settle back into the pilot chairs, staring out at the dark expanse of space before them.

Jongho must fall asleep at some point, because the next thing he knows Seonghwa is waking him up with a gentle hand in his hair and Yunho is laughing as he snaps a picture of their sleeping captain on his handheld.

The nightmares never stop entirely, but Jongho figures that’s to be expected. The longer he spends with this crew, the more he worries about them, but as long as he reminds himself of what Hongjoong said, the nightmares are manageable:

_We’re all here, we’re all free, and we have each other._

**Author's Note:**

> this was self-indulgent. this whole au is self-indulgent.
> 
> hope you enjoyed~!


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